


Some (Enchanted) Evening

by coalitiongirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 02:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14150394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coalitiongirl/pseuds/coalitiongirl
Summary: Princess Emma plays knight in shining armor to Lady Regina. (She's a damsel, she's in distress, she canhandleit.)





	Some (Enchanted) Evening

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for this fic was, "i know you did something similar in the early chapters of emma enchanted, but: teenage sq in the enchanted forest, princess emma and lady regina falling in love"
> 
> Hopefully this is a bit different– I know I'm kind of bursting with FTL AUs lately LOL. Be warned that there are some vague mentions of child abuse and there is a prince who gets a little too aggressive in this!

The princess is dancing with other princesses, and Regina watches her with round eyes. Queen Snow is beaming at her, unbothered by her daughter’s choice of dance partners, and Princess Emma beams back before she turns her brilliant smile on a new princess. Mother lets out a little grunt of distaste. “Good luck having an heir with _that_ girl,” she mutters, and Regina straightens, already prepared for Mother to turn on her.

 

She always knows. Mother’s eyes narrow as she looks Regina over and finds her wanting. “We will not be so foolish. There are enough spurned princes in this room right now to fill a dozen castles. Go. Bat your eyelashes at them until they’re in love.” Regina nods, her eyes flickering back to the princess.

 

Princess Emma is dancing merrily with the girl, who is tall and beautiful with a tiara on her own head as well. Regina watches them enviously, and the princess turns and catches sight of her still staring at them. Her face brightens, and she separates from the other princess and heads toward Regina.

 

Regina panics. The princess is smiling, her gaze locked on Regina’s and her expression inviting. Mother is watching her, eyes dark and suspicious, and Regina makes a mad dash for the first boy she sees with a wistful look on his face. All she needs to do is look at him through her eyelashes, and he takes her hand and pulls her into a rough dance.

 

Regina lifts her hand, smiling coquettishly as her eyes drift back toward Princess Emma. The princess has stopped moving forward, her face crestfallen, and Regina swallows back guilt that isn’t _fair_ , it isn’t her _fault_ , and anyway, why would a princess want to dance with _her_ –

 

The next time she peeks back at the princess, Princess Emma has a new dance partner, a Lady who dances so beautifully that Regina feels small and ungainly next to her. Princess Emma has none of her skill, but she has…a _quality_ , something about the way she swaggers that has Regina looking back at her again and again. Princess Emma sneaks a glance back at her; and when she sees Regina watching, she offers her a wink. Regina flushes, looking away quickly.

 

Her prince is oblivious to her distraction, and she lets him tread on her toes for one more dance before she sees Mother jerk her head– _leave him wanting_ , she can see in Mother’s eyes– and she moves on to another prince. The first prince doesn’t let her go at first, and she tugs _hard_ , shifting away from him as he mutters something uncomplimentary under his breath.

 

Princess Emma isn’t dancing when Regina peers at her again. She’s talking to her mother, and Queen Snow is talking in a low tone, her eyes on… _Mother?_ Whatever she’s saying, she looks solemn and hard-eyed, and Regina shivers as both princess and queen look over at her together.

 

That’s it, then. Queen Snow is warning her daughter to stay away from Cora’s daughter, and Princess Emma won’t approach Regina again. The princess looks troubled at her mother’s words, and Regina ducks her head and dances closer to the prince.

 

The other prince– the one she’d left behind– is glaring at her. Regina flits away from the second prince and finds a third boy, this one only a noble. It won’t be enough for Mother, but it makes for a nice distraction from Princess Emma, who has been pulled into another dance and doesn’t look back at Regina once this time.

 

Regina isn’t disappointed. It would make no sense to _care_ about a spoiled princess who can be the darling of a ball where she flouts every taboo at once. It would make no sense to want to be one of her dozen conquests for the night, and Regina forces herself to look away and flit to another boy, then another, smiling charmingly and moving through all the same motions, over and over again. She’s been trained for this, is meant to do it.

 

Mother approves, if the smile on her face is sign enough of any kind of approval, and she disappears after an hour of dances, off on her own agenda. Regina breathes a sigh of relief, and she parts from the final boy with a flutter of her eyelashes and escapes the room at last.

 

There’s a balcony outside, overlooking the White Kingdom, and Regina walks to the edge of it and looks down at the little houses illuminated by the moon. She had been so eager to come here to the palace when Mother had told her they’d been invited to the princess’s birthday ball– had imagined grand parties and places where she could easily slip away from Mother and _live_ , just for a little while. But Mother had taken one look at the ballroom full of royalty and had tightened her grip on Regina’s shoulder.

 

She will be a queen. She knows this because Mother knows this, and Mother is never wrong. Someday, she will be wed to a prince or king, and there will be no escape from him or from Mother. Until then, she savors the tiny moments she has where she can pretend, for a little while, that she is free.

 

“There you are,” says a voice, and Regina twists around, startled, and comes face-to-face with the first prince she’d danced with. He’s smiling, but there something about the look in his eyes that sends a bolt of fear through Regina’s spine. “I’ve been looking for you.”

 

“I was getting some air,” Regina says carefully, folding her hands at her front and smiling. “If you’d like another dance, I’ll be in soon–“

 

“I thought we could dance out here,” he says, and he’s suddenly too close, bridging the gap between them until Regina can stumble backward. “You’re a tease,” he hisses. He’s close enough that Regina can smell the ale in his breath, and she takes another swift step back, then another, until she’s backed against the balcony.

 

Heart pounding, she tries to move to the side, to duck away, and the prince’s hands slam down against the balcony wall on either side of her. “Did you think that no one here knew who you were? That we didn’t let you dance with us out of _pity_?” he spits out, and she stares up at him, her chin raised in defiance as her heart floods in shame. She’d been foolish enough to believe that her mother’s reputation hadn’t stretched this far, that she might be an anonymous girl even to boys she hadn’t cared about. “I know who your mother is,” the prince snarls. “You should be kneeling before me in gratitude for even _looking_ at you, you filthy–“

 

“Shut _up_ ,” Regina growls finally, her patience running thin, and it’s the wrong thing to say. The prince raises his hand and pins her against the wall, and he looks– furious, hungry, as though he might consume her whole. She struggles and he laughs wildly, surging forward as though to demand a kiss–

 

–a hard wave of magic explodes from her and Regina gapes, wide-eyed, as the boy is thrown backward. She hadn’t done that. Had she? _Mother_ has magic, but she’d never wanted anything to do with it. Not until now, when the prince lets out a curse and starts forward, “Demon _bitch_!” and suddenly she needs it again.

 

She concentrates, struggling to figure out exactly what had brought out her magic, but she’s too new to this, too untrained. The boy is sneering at her with deep loathing and Regina makes a run for it, hitching up her long ballgown to race to the other side of the balcony.

 

She isn’t fast enough. The prince catches her, slams her against the balcony rail, and she sees stars. He sneers down at her, his fingers closing around her neck, and he hisses, “Say thank you, brat.”

 

It’s instinctive, the way she freezes up when someone holds her by the neck. Mother had punished her more when she’d struggled, and she can’t convince her legs to move or his arms to push the prince aside. He leers triumphantly, and she closes her eyes, tears leaking from beneath them.

 

And then he’s yanked away from her with so much force that she chokes, clutching her neck and opening her eyes to gape at her rescuer. She sees a pale dress and a wave of blonde hair, and–

 

– _how_ –

 

Princess Emma shoves the prince and punches him _hard,_ hard enough that he howls in agony and clutches his nose. There’s blood pouring from it, and Princess Emma wipes her bloody fist on his shirt and shoves him away again. “Get him out of my sight,” she orders one of her guards, who is standing and watching bemusedly from the doorway. “I never want him setting foot into this castle again.”

 

The guard drags the prince from the balcony, leaving Princess Emma there alone as Regina stares up at her, uncomprehending. Princess Emma rubs the back of her neck self-consciously. “Sorry,” she says, not sounding very sorry at all. “I saw him follow you outside and I knew he was a brute. I should have warned you.” And now she sounds apologetic, not at all like someone speaking to Lady Cora’s daughter.

 

Regina straightens. She isn’t sure if she’s more relieved or grateful or embarrassed. Embarrassment wins out, naturally. “I could have fought him off,” she says haughtily.

 

Princess Emma snorts. “Yeah, I’m sure you could have. You looked like you really had that situation under control,” she says, rolling her eyes and looking miffed at Regina’s lack of gratitude.

 

Stung, Regina holds her head high and bluffs. “I have magic. I was exactly where I wanted to be. You can’t just…swoop in and _interfere_ in other people’s lives,” she says, growing bolder. There is something about Princess Emma’s careless confidence that brings out a matching stubbornness in her. “You might be a princess, but you’re not _my_ princess.”

 

Princess Emma scowls at her. “ _Fine_. Go save yourself next time.” She turns around in a rush of silvery fabric and then spins back around. There is something about her angry that is as striking as seeing her dance, as the smile she’d had on her face when she’d first seen Regina. “No. You know what? I _will_ save you next time. I don’t care who your mother is or that you’re kind of an asshole or that I’m not your princess, I’m a _decent_ person and I–“ She lets out a little frustrated growl, glaring at Regina, and Regina is hopelessly charmed at once.

 

Princess Emma stalks toward the exit, back to the ballroom, and Regina can feel a sudden rush of panic at the princess leaving so soon. _Not yet_. She doesn’t want to lose Princess Emma, even if she can’t quite explain why she wants her to stay. “Wait,” she says, and Princess Emma pauses at the doorway.

 

Regina doesn’t have anything to say, except for _thank you_ , and she’s stubborn enough that she isn’t going to do that. She grinds her teeth together, irritated with her own indecision, and she finally blurts out, “Do you want to dance?”

 

Mother would be furious. Regina suspects that Queen Snow would be, too. Regina is the laughingstock of the ballroom, the dreaded daughter of a woman so formidable that even the royals are afraid of her, and the princess can’t possibly agree to–

 

Princess Emma’s set lips break into a smile. “I thought you’d never ask,” she says, and she glides forward, tripping a little on her dress, and puts a hand on Regina’s side.

 

The music filters out to the balcony from inside, a gentle, slow sort of melody that they fall into. Princess Emma is an inelegant dancer but she sways in time with Regina, grins at her and rests her free hand on Regina’s shoulder. “You’re a piece of work,” she informs Regina, but her words are playful now.

 

Regina huffs, glaring at her without any bite. “I’m not the one who seduced half the guests here before midnight.”

 

Princess Emma laughs. “I saw you dancing with all the princes. Looking for a crown?”

 

It’s a joke, but Regina feels obligated to tell the truth. “My mother certainly is,” she admits. “I don’t…I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.” She shivers, which gives away more than she’d meant to.

 

Princess Emma stares at her, pensive, and then reaches up to touch Regina’s cheek. Her fingers trail across Regina’s skin to her lips, the movement of it enough to make a shiver run down Regina’s spine. Princess Emma traces the curve of Regina’s upper lip, pausing at the scar that splits it. “I’ve heard about your mother,” she says, and she sounds…not pitying, but stony-voiced with anger. Regina can’t speak, can only sway with her and close her eyes, drinking in the sensation of the other girl’s touch. “Everyone deserves a choice,” Princess Emma says vehemently. “Even if it’s just…who you dance with.”

 

Regina’s cheeks feel hot in the cool night air. “I chose this dance,” she says. She’d meant for it to sound wry, detached, but there is something about Princess Emma that doesn’t allow for detachment. It emerges in a whisper, almost uncertain.

 

Princess Emma laughs softly. “Well, you can tell your mother that I am a princess,” she says, and her smile is a little sad. “I don’t even…I haven’t even asked you your name.”

 

Regina watches her, sees the moonlight play off the planes of her face. She had thought some of Princess Emma’s dance partners to be more beautiful than their royal companion before, but now she finds that she can’t imagine anyone could be. “Regina,” she breathes. “And you’re Princess Emma.”

 

“Emma,” the other girl corrects, smiling breathlessly at her. “Just Emma.”

 

Princess Emma– _Emma_ , whose eyes are soft again, who stands as close as the prince had, but the energy that floods Regina at her nearness isn’t fear– dances more skillfully now as the music flows into something faster. She leads, twirling Regina, and Regina laughs despite herself. “Regina,” Emma says, grinning. “I like that.”

 

“Your approval of my name means the world to me,” Regina says archly, and Emma smirks and spins her again, catching her around the waist and drawing her close again.

 

“I’ve wanted to dance with you all night,” Emma confesses, her eyes bright. “There was something about you from the moment you walked in. You’re all I’ve seen all night.” She winks and Regina heart skips a beat. “Maybe you enchanted me.”

 

Regina scoffs, feeling the blush of her cheeks. “I don’t even know how to use my magic,” she points out, and Emma jabs a finger at her, poking her chest.

 

“Ha! So I did save you,” she says, triumphant.

 

Regina narrows her eyes. “You did not.”

 

“Admit it! I saved you. Swept you off your feet,” Emma says smugly, wrapping an arm around Regina’s back and tugging her closer. “Your savior. Your knight in shining–“

 

Regina kisses her, mostly just to shut her up, because Princess Emma is as insufferable as she is charming. She’s also a very good kisser, she discovers a moment later. Her lips are tingling and Emma is gentle but enthusiastic, dotting little kisses to Regina’s mouth until Regina’s lips part. Emma dips her tongue into Regina’s mouth and Regina gasps, pulling her closer, stroking the hard planes of her back and running her hands through Emma’s hair.

 

It’s a quiet sort of revelation, kissing Princess Emma, and Regina is floating by the end of it, Emma’s hand on her cheeks and her heart in her eyes. “–armor,” she finishes, and Regina can’t help but laugh lowly, kissing her again.

 

The music has slowed, and they sway with it, foreheads pressed together and secret smiles curling at their lips. Theirs is the dance of two girls who’ve crossed into another land together, a beginning that is only theirs and theirs alone, and Regina can’t remember happiness without fear like this before. “I thought your mother told you not to dance with me,” Regina whispers, moving through the same steps over and over. “I saw her tell you about my mother.”

 

“I don’t care who your mother is,” Emma says fiercely. “You aren’t your mother. You’re…” She pulls back to gaze at Regina’s face, and then she shakes her head ruefully. “I’m trying to think of something more suave to say than _beautiful_ , but–“ She gestures at Regina, and Regina can’t _believe_ this, how she could have stumbled across someone like Emma.

 

It’s too perfect, it’s never this perfect, and it’s almost unsurprising when a voice speaks from the doorway. “Regina,” Mother says coolly, “ _What_ do you think you’re doing out here?” 

 

And then another voice, just as Regina springs away from Emma. “Emma!” Queen Snow sounds tense, frantic as she rushes through the doorway and comes to a halt beside Mother. They stare at each other for a long moment, Mother disdainful and Queen Snow with narrowed, suspicious eyes. “You,” she says, glaring from Mother to Regina.

 

“I was just dancing with Regina,” Emma says, her gaze only on her own mother. Regina’s eyes flicker from Mother to Queen Snow. She doesn’t know which one catching them will be worse for her, and she inhales slowly, forcing herself to remain very calm and very still.

 

A hand sneaks into hers. Emma squeezes her hand tightly, and Regina finds the courage to speak. “I hope that isn’t a problem, Mother,” she says in a tightly controlled voice. There may be punishment later, but she feels…stronger here, bolder with Emma beside her, like she can weather anything. “Queen Snow,” she finishes, inclining her head at the queen.

 

Queen Snow watches her curiously, her face as much of an open book as her daughter’s. She doesn’t look quite as pinched anymore, her eyes shifting to Regina and Emma’s joined hands and then to Emma’s calm expression, and she says, “I suppose not.”

 

“The queen has spoken,” Mother says, her voice cold with a hint of mockery. “Come, Regina. I fear we have overstayed our welcome.” The mockery is more pronounced now, and Queen Snow shifts to glare at her again.

 

“You weren’t invited,” she says, but no one pays her any heed.

 

Regina lets Emma’s hand go with reluctance, crossing the balcony to join her mother. Mother puts a hard, unyielding hand on Regina’s shoulder and steers her away. They’re nearly inside the ballroom when Regina turns back in desperation, wrenches herself away from Mother so swiftly that Mother is too startled to stop her. “Emma,” she says urgently, and Emma catches her, wraps her arms around her to hold her tightly, presses a kiss to her hair.

 

“I will see you again,” Emma says, her eyes glinting with determination. “I promise.”

 

Regina kisses her cheek, kisses her hair, kisses her lips. Queen Snow and Mother must both be watching, but Regina doesn’t care in that moment. “I promise,” she whispers back, and then magic is tugging her away from Emma, a pull she can’t resist.

 

She stumbles back to Mother, turning back again and again as Mother walks her stiffly toward the staircase that leads to the exits. “Not a word,” Mother hisses, and she’s tense, tense beyond what she’d witnessed between Regina and Emma. Regina stays close, frightened and biting her lip to hide it.

 

She expects to be punished as soon as they climb into the carriage, but Mother is distracted, digging into her skirts and pulling out a box that Regina’s never seen before. She opens it carefully, and Regina’s eyes widen at what’s inside.

 

“Whose– whose heart is that?” she whispers, her own heart fearful. Her mind races through possibilities. “Is it Queen Snow’s? Emma’s?”

 

Mother laughs. “So self-absorbed,” she tuts. “ _This_ is the only reason why we went to the castle. Your little moment of rebellion has nothing to do with it.” She strokes the blackened heart fondly and sighs in pleasure as she does, as though she can feel it beneath her skin.

 

Regina turns away, sick at the reminder of what magic can do. “You aren’t angry that I danced with the princess?”

 

“It will matter very little soon enough,” Mother says distantly, closing the box. “It was a distraction to give me time to get what I needed.”

 

“What– what is it?” Regina ventures, bold and in wonder. She might yet get away with her dance. Maybe Mother will even let her see Emma _again_ , with the mood she’s in. Hope rises within her, a warm comfort in the cool night.

 

Mother smiles thinly at her, her eyes gleaming with unspoken triumph. “The heart of the thing I love most,” she says, and she tucks the box back into her skirts and slides an arm around Regina’s shoulders.


End file.
